Star Trek! The Musical
by Carynna
Summary: Consuming unidentified alien fruit is never advised. Especially when its aftereffects force the crew to express their thoughts only by singing Broadway show tunes. UPDATE: SPOCK'S DUET!
1. I Feel Pretty

**Star Trek! The Musical**

**Summary: Consuming unidentified alien fruit is never advised. Especially when its aftereffects force the crew to express their thoughts only by singing Broadway show tunes. **

**A/N: So I really really like musicals. And I really really like Star Trek. Even someone who hates math as much as I do knows what that means…Broadway + Star Trek = CRACK!FIC! **

When they look back on the situation, they generally agree that it wouldn't be a bad thing if those 72 hours were erased from Starfleet records. They also agree that it was mostly Kirk's fault. ("As usual," McCoy would add.)

Kirk disagreed. It wasn't his fault that the purple-skinned female residents of the planet Sondweberheim wanted to feed him what they said was a native delicacy. It also wasn't his fault that it looked exactly like an apple. And it certainly wasn't his fault for kindheartedly wanting to share with the rest of the away team. But looking back, everyone agrees that Kirk was the first and the most severely affected by the bizarre side effects that rocked the ship for the next three days.

* * *

Everyone was in good spirits after the brief diplomatic stop on Sondweberheim. The natives had been friendly and had agreed to join the Federation. The away team—Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and Chekov—had returned to man their respective stations.

Jim Kirk was feeling particularly ecstatic. He usually was, but this time, his joy was greater than any he had felt before.

_Strange,_ he thought to himself. _Why am I so…happy? It's nice that we negotiated, but I'm feeling even happier than when I officially became captain._

He felt an inexplicable burst of elation bubbling within his chest. Glancing down at his tingling fingers, he was seized by an uncontrollable desire to burst out in song.

Blinking frantically, he clenched his teeth in an effort to stop a melody from escaping his lips. But the mysterious force overpowered him.

He jumped out of the command chair.

"_I feel pretty! Oh so pretty! I feel pretty and witty and gay!"_ he warbled.

Several sets of bewildered eyes turned to stare at their captain.

"_And I pity any man who isn't me today!"_ he continued, confusion and panic evident in his eyes.

"Contact Dr. McCoy immediately," Spock instructed Sulu. The helmsman, who looked both amused and slightly terrified, paged the sickbay, though his eyes were glued on the captain.

"_I feel charming!"_ Kirk felt his feet move under him in a rapid motion that could only be described as a pathetic attempt at tap-dancing.

"_Oh so charming! It's alarming how charming I feeeeeeeeel!!"_

At that moment, McCoy hurried into the bridge and took one look at his friend. "You've got to be kidding me!" he shouted.

"Make it stop!" Kirk managed to shriek, before his body forced him into another stanza of the song.

"_And so pretty, that I hardly can believe I'm real!" _

He shuffled his way towards one of the reflective bridge doors.

McCoy ran after the captain, tricorder in hand. "Oh, god, Jim, what did you do?"

"I..don't…know!" Jim cried in a choked voice. "I can't stop!"

He turned to gaze at his reflection. _"See that pretty boy in the mirror there! Who can that attractive boy be?"_

"I can't detect what's wrong with you if you don't stop moving!"

Kirk's strained expression made it obvious that his tap-dancing was far beyond his control.

"_What a pretty face! What a pretty smile! What a pretty meeeeeeee!!" _

"Someone hold him down," McCoy growled. "I have to get a reading before Twinkletoes here bursts a vein."

"_I feel stunning! And entrancing! Feel like running and dancing for joy! For I'm loved, by a pretty wonderful—"_

Sulu and Spock restrained their captain as Bones reached for a hypospray.

"MCCOY!" Kirk panicked, his hatred of hypos overshadowing his desire to rid himself of the singing affliction.

The doctor plunged the sedative into Kirk's neck . "Hey, that even rhymed," he muttered.

He scanned the tricorder over the captain's limp body, grumbling to himself. "What did the fool do? Did he eat something? Come here, Sulu. What can you tell me about the—" he glanced at the readout "—cantador plant?"

"It's native to Sondweberheim," Sulu replied. "It bears a fruit that causes…oh no." The helmsman's brow furrowed. "I remember reading about this a long time ago. The fruit of the plant resembles an apple, but more notably—it causes whoever ate it to involuntarily dance and sing. And not just any song. Only Broadway show tunes."

McCoy blanched. "It looks like apples? Shit, I knew I shouldn't have eaten anything that Kirk offered to me!"

Chekov had a similarly horrified response. "I ate it too…I vill _sing_?!"

Spock merely raised an eyebrow. "Exactly how long will this fruit have hold over the consumer?" he questioned.

"Three days," Sulu responded. Then he frowned. "Wait—did _you _eat it?"

Spock sighed . "I am afraid that I, too, ingested a portion of this fruit."

McCoy's terrified expression lessened and he almost smiled.

"This whole thing just might be worth it," he said, "if I get to see the hobgoblin do a pirouette."

**~TBC~**

_**A/N: **__Tell me more! Tell me more! Did you get very far? (Evidently so, if you're reading this.) _Hopefully that wasn't too terrifying to scare you away! I have way too much fun writing crack!fics… Anyways, a review (or even a well-constructed flame) would be appreciated! 

_**I already have songs picked out for the rest of the team…but who will be next? Dun dun dun! **_


	2. I Can Do That

**Star Trek! The musical: Chapter 2**

**A/N: Thanks for all of the kind reviews on Ch. 1! Who would have thought there are so many Star Trek fans who also love musicals? This one's kind of short, by the way. It's hard to avoid the "block of italic verse" trap =[ Anyways…**

**Ladies and gentlemen: I give you the magical, the marvelous, Mr. Pavel Chekov!  
**

There was a reason that he had only said "I vill have to _sing?!" _

Pavel Chekov had a secret. Not a deep, dark one, but a small one that made him grin goofily every time it came to mind.

While everyone on board knew of the Russian's mathematical prowess and most had been outrun by the fleet-footed ensign, Chekov had another skill that he had long kept hidden.

Before he had undertaken marathon running, he had pursued an admittedly more Russian pastime—dancing.

That was why, just a few minutes after the captain's startling performance, Chekov wasn't worried at all about his body forcing him to tap dance.

He was, however, concerned about the singing. In English. When he spoke in English, the others made enough fun of him. What would it be like when he _sang_?

He chose to focus instead on the fact that dancing wouldn't be a problem. _How did I begin to dance?_ he thought to himself. It was a nice story, a story that the females on board would probably call adorable.

Chekov smiled to himself in recollection. _I could not have started wizzout my dear sister…_

A bizarre sensation crept into his chest and seeped into his limbs. He gasped for a brief moment as the plant took effect.

Chekov rose unsteadily from the console and nodded at Sulu. "Eet ees time," he solemnly declared, before the first burst of melody swept over him.

"_I'm vatching sis go pitter pat. Said: I ken do zat!"_ Chekov chirped, his feet a blur of motion.

"_I ken do zat!"_

The same eyes that had stared in horror at Jim Kirk now gazed on in amusement and awe at their youngest crewmember and his surprising other talent.

"_Knew effry step right off zee bat. Said: I ken do zat! I ken do zat!"_ Unlike Kirk's, Chekov's eyes filled with glee as he tapped furiously around his beloved console.

_Zis ees not bad!_ he thought to himself. _Zey are not laughing at me! _Encouraged, he enthusiastically continued.

"_One morning Sis won't go to dance class. I grabbed her shoes and tights and all, but my foot's too small, so I stuff her shoes wiss extra socks. Run sewen blocks—een nussing flat!" _

He zoomed around the bridge demonstrating his running ability, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"_Hell, I ken do zat! I ken do zat!" _

The bridge crew had begun clapping in time to Pavel Chekov's ecstatic song and dance number. He flailed his arms and stomped his feet, oblivious to any hesitations he might have felt before.

"_I got to class and had it made. And so I stayeeeeeeddd. Zee rest of my life! All sanks to sis! Now married and _fat!"

Chekov puffed out his cheeks and held his arms out in front of his stomach in a mock waddle.

"_I ken do zis!"_ He leaped, clearing the now empty command chair.

"_Zat I ken do!"_ Chekov did a lopsided cartwheel and ended in a perfect split. He threw his arms up and out and beamed at the bridge crew.

"_I KEN DO ZAT!"_

**~tbc~ **

**Hopefully that wasn't too OOC! By the way, the song is "I Can Do That" from the musical A Chorus Line. (In case you were wondering, the song from Ch. 1 is "I Feel Pretty" from West Side Story) **

**This was actually the song that inspired the whole fic to begin with—how could I pass up a chance to include a song whose title **_**is **_**Chekov's infamous line? It's a cute song—look it up! **

**Anyhoo, I'll tell you now that McCoy is [probably] next...I may change my mind. **

**(But after that, there will be Spock's first appearance…and it won't be a solo. Stay tuned!) **

**P.S. Anyone pick up on the musical reference in the intro? **


	3. Tomorrow

Chapter 3

McCoy was beginning to understand how this bizarre spell worked. As he observed Kirk, now wide awake, in the sickbay, he reflected on the…performances that had occurred so far.

They had all been, as Spock would have said, fairly logical. It made sense that Kirk, the ever-arrogant prick, would feel pretty and tell everyone about it. It also made perfect sense that Chekov would be utterly adorable even while tap-dancing and singing in a Russian accent about how he could "do zat."

The doctor only hoped that his turn, when it came, would be relatively tame.

_"It can't be anything too embarrassing,"_ he tried to reassure himself. _"Maybe it'll be a serious, non-humiliating, bluesy kind of thing."_

Unfortunately for Bones, the plant had its own acute sense of delicious irony.

It didn't hit him until four hours after Chekov's affliction, but the awful memory of it would stay with him forever, since Kirk would never let him forget it.

He turned to call out to one of the nurses when he felt a sudden rush of adrenaline course through his veins. Before he could take any preventative measures, his mouth opened and a burst of music escaped his unwilling lips.

As soon as he heard the first two words of the song racing through his mind, McCoy's heart plummeted in realization that he would soon be singing one of the most annoyingly upbeat songs ever written. _In front of his entire staff._

"Dammit!" he cried, closer to frustrated and terrified tears than he would have liked to admit. "I'm a doctor, not a plucky red-headed orphan!"

_"The sun'll come out tomorrow!" _The words sounded oddly muffled as Bones clamped his jaws together in an attempt to fight the inevitable, but by 'tomorrow,' the song had won.

Nurse Christine Chapel knew she would have to face McCoy's wrath later, but there was no way she was going to just let this happen without milking it for all it was worth. Rushing to the nearest communication station, she swiftly notified the entire Enterprise of the ongoing spectacle in the sickbay.

_"Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun!" _

McCoy did his best to display his trademark scowl in an attempt to negate the cheeriness emanating from his every pore, but his facial muscles had affixed themselves in an unnaturally wide grin.

_"Just thinkin' about tomorrow clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow, till there's none!" _

Kirk desperately wanted to convulse with laughter, but McCoy was still in arm's reach of several nasty-looking hyposprays, so he managed to resist. Uncharacteristically chipper or not, the doctor was still perfectly capable of administering unpleasant drugs to an uncooperative patient.

_"When I'm stuck with a day that's gray and lonely, I just stick up my chin and grin and saaaaaaaay….Oh!" _

By this point, McCoy had become more than bubbly. He was verging on downright _perky._

Unfortunately for him, most of the engineering and bridge staff had heeded Chapel's alert and rushed into the already crowded medical bay to watch their Chief Medical officer exemplify the term "cheerful."

_"The sun'll come out tomorrow! So you gotta hang on till tomorrow! Come what may!"_

Even with the forced brightness on his face, McCoy still managed to tinge the words with a slightly bitter undertone. Despite his best efforts, though, this bizarre combination of cheerleader-esque peppiness and classic McCoy-grumpiness just seemed to send more ripples of wild laughter coursing through the crowd.

_"Tomorrow!"_ Was McCoy _batting his eyelashes?_ His fear of hypos totallly forgotten, Kirk was snorting too hard to be certain.

_"Tomorrow!"_ And now he was _skipping. _

_"I love ya!"_ And…were those _jazz hands?_ The man was practically bouncing.

_"Tomorrow! You're always a day…awaaaaaaaayyyyy!!" _McCoy spread his arms and gazed up into the heavens (or rather, just up, as they were in space) as he stretched out the last, effervescent note for what seemed like an eternity.

Then, without, warning, his arms snapped back down to his sides and he coughed furiously in an attempt to purge the joy that had overtaken him. As he slowly regained control of his body, the only word coursing through McCoy's mind was "injustice." He looked around the chamber, wincing internally as he saw essentially everyone he knew staring back at him.

Noticing that many of them were still giggling uncontrollably, McCoy realized that his mouth was still stretched wide in a cheesy grin. Fuming, he grabbed the corners of his mouth and pulled them down, flexing his sore facial muscles. Then he turned on them.

"If any of you mention this ever again, I swear to God I will make your next physical exam a living hell!"

And with that, Chief Medical Officer Leonard "Bones" McCoy stormed out of the medical bay.

It was no use. He could hear them laughing all the way to the bridge.

**_~TBC~_**

**_I think I used every possible synonym of the word "cheerful" in this chapter…and now it's time for a little Q&A. _**

**_Q: Carynna, why are you giving Bones such a hard knock life?_**

**_A: BECAUSE I CAN._**

**_And also, consider this: If you're never fully dressed without a smile, does that mean that Bones (and Spock, for that matter) are always partially unclothed? Yes!! Yes!! Life is good. _**

**_So good, in fact, that you should leave a review. =]_**

**_Spock+mysterycharacter duet next! _**


	4. What Is This Feeling?

**Chapter 4**

**A/N: Most of this was written on the plane from Tokyo back to LA, so there may be some wonky bits from when I was tired. **

**Also, just to let you know, this is not Spock's solo…that will come a little bit later. To tide you over in the meantime… **

Although McCoy was still horribly embarrassed about his turn in the spotlight, he couldn't help but be a little excited when he remembered that Spock, too, would soon undergo the tortuous process. Or at least he hoped that he would. By human medical standards, Vulcan physiology was unpredictable, so there was no guarantee that the first officer would be subjected at all to the plant's effects.

The first twenty-four hours passed. Nothing. Not a single peep from any of the landing party.

_Including the damned Vulcan,_ the doctor thought_. Just my luck. I humiliate myself and the pointy-eared bastard gets off scot-free. It's just not fair. _

Mid-morning the second day, McCoy was happy to learn that the universe did have some sense of justice.

Although he was technically required to monitor the sickbay, Bones had been lurking around the bridge for a few hours, hoping to catch the pivotal moment when the Vulcan succumbed.

Kirk, too, couldn't help but wonder when the science officer would let down his guard. The captain swiveled around in the command chair to face Spock.

"So, Spock. Felt any…tingling recently?"

"I cannot imagine why you would be interested in such a matter."

"Well, you know that that's one of the warning signs of the cantador plant taking effect. So naturally, as your captain, it's in my interest to know if and when my first officer may be subjected to a potentially harmful affliction."

Spock pondered this for a moment. "No, Captain, I have not. In addition, it is unlikely that the effects of the plant would be identically manifested in a human and a Vulcan, so—"

He paused suddenly, detecting a foreign sensation in the tips of his ears, almost as if a needle was pricking at the cartilage.

Kirk hadn't noticed the abrupt break in conversation, because a very familiar feeling was bubbling through his body. "Shit!" he moaned. "Again?!"

Then a second wave of song-eliciting emotion washed over both of them and rendered them unable to control their own vocal ability.

"_Dearest darlingest Momsie and Georgsicle,"_ Kirk began, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. Spock's eyes flickered with disapproval at the completely illogical terms of endearment.

"_My dear father,"_ the first officer replied calmly, thus far succeeding at controlling the emotions. That was, after all, something he had been working on since birth.

"_There's been some confusion over assignments here at Starfleet,"_ they sang in perfect unison.

"_But of course I'll care for Nessa,"_ Kirk declared.

"Who ees Nessa?" Chekov wondered.

"His penis," McCoy answered with a perfectly straight face. "He named it. And then he told me all about it."

Fortunately, Spock broke the awkward silence that followed the doctor's comment. _"But of course, I'll rise above it." _

"_For I know that's how you'd want me to respond—yes. There's been some confusion for you see my captain/first officer is…" _They paused for dramatic effect.

"_Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe…" _Kirk sang. "I'll say," McCoy snorted.

Spock did not look amused._ "Blonde," he retorted. _

"Strange," he commented in between bursts of melody. "Why would I be compelled to make a statement describing an individual's entire being based solely on his hair color?"

"_What is this feeling, so sudden and new?"_ the two sang together.

"This is not a logical song choice for me," Spock said. "I would not sing profusely about a human 'feeling'—" His argument was cut off by his vocal cords' involuntary movement into the next verse.

"_I felt the moment I laid eyes on you!"_

"That much is true," Uhura added. "Remember the Kobayashi Maru? Spock was royally pissed off that night."

"_My pulse is rushing! My head is reeling!" _Kirk's wrist rose to his forehead in an exaggerated pretense of fainting.

"_My face is flushing!"_ Indeed, Spock's face had turned a pale shade of green.

"_Oh, what is this feeling? Fervid as a flame…does it have a name? Yes—aaaaah!! Loathing!"_

The crew noted that the duo was becoming more and more heated in their song and that Kirk and Spock were looking increasingly antagonistic.

"_Unadulterated loathing—for your face."_

Kirk looked furious. "My face? What's wrong with my face?!"

"_Your voice!"_ he retorted.

"Actually, my voice is perfectly even and is maintained at an audio frequency guaranteed to ensure a certain level of euphony for the recipient. Thus it is impossible for it to be irritating to the point of 'loathing'," Spock coolly replied.

"_Your clothing!" _the first officer continued.

"Hey!" Kirk said angrily. "These are Starfleet issued trousers. You're just jealous because my butt looks better in them." Spock wisely chose to ignore this comment.

"_Let's just say: I loathe it all! Every little trait, however small, makes my very flesh begin to crawl!" _

"Like your pointy ears!" Kirk yelled.

"Or your arrogance and utter inability to, as you humans say, keep it in your pants!" Spock replied. The forced hatred on Kirk's face dissipated for a moment. He choked back laughter as he watched his normally stoic first officer…prance.

"_With simple utter loathing, there's a strange exhilaration in such total detestation!" _

Panting slightly from the exertion of performing an involuntary song and dance, Kirk and Spock paused a moment, then resumed their emphatic singing.

"_It's so pure, so strong! Though I do admit it came on fast, still I do believe that it can last. And I will be loathing you my whole life long!" _

They finished their song, arms outstretched; mouths open wide as they belted out the final note. Mischief sparked in the captain's eyes as he watched the science officer struggle briefly to regain his calm demeanor. For a second, Kirk thought he saw a hint of a smile dance across Spock's lips.

"Didn't know you could cut a rug on the dance floor, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, smirking.

"I do not understand this human aphorism," he replied, his trademark tranquility fully restored. "In no way during this entire situation did I ever take it upon myself to destroy a carpet using a blade of any sort. In fact, there _is_ no rug on the floor of the bridge—"

His continued efforts were drowned out by Kirk's bellows of laughter and the crew's similar response.

Spock only raised a bemused eyebrow in response.

"I am afraid I will never understand humans."

**~TBC~  
**

**OMFG. I went to Comic-Con for the first time yesterday, and it was utterly amazing. At first I didn't understand, but then it was EPIC. **

**I SAW JOHN CHO!!! I literally had to bite my fist to keep from hyperventilating. AND I saw Dominic Monaghan (!), Elijah Wood, Peter Jackson, and Richard Taylor from Weta Workshop!! Seriously, the best day of my life…John Cho was less than twenty feet away from me. WE MADE EYE CONTACT. THREE TIMES. **

**Anyhoo, totally ****spastic fangirling Comic-Con commentary aside,**** just going to let you know that Scotty should be next. And I promise that there will be a Spock solo…but I want to save it for a little bit later =]**

**P.S. johnchojohnchojohncho!!!!!! **


End file.
